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What actually happened on Saturday Night
Mar. 27th, 2006 03:12 pmMs. Carotte and I attended an awards party for our LARPing game (Ms. Carotte won in the two categories she was nominated in!) that took place in a resto on Prince-Arthur. As you can imagine, the streets were packed solid. After a futile hunt for a spot, I settled for parking in a lot. I paid the price ($15), left my keys, and went off to the party.
Four hours later, I headed back to the lot to get the car. To my annoyance, I found two of the attendants leaning on the car having a conversation. I decided to let this slide, but I was annoyed. I unlocked the front door and when I got in, I saw it.
An old coffee cup (half-empty) that had been sitting in the deep coffee cup holder was now lying on its side in the passenger seat, cold coffee spilled all over it.
I jumped out of the car and started swearing like a sailor, outraged. "You @#$@! I paid $15 for this?!?! What the @#@#$@#!?!?"
The attendants came over, asking what was wrong. When I tried to tell them that I found coffee on my passenger seat, they tried to tell me that I must've done it. "What?!? Why would I have done this? When I left, this seat was dry!"
"Sir... Explain to me what happened," said one of the attendants.
By this time, I had the coffee cup in my hand and it still had a bit of coffee in it. "This cup was in my cup holder when I left you the car. When I came to get my car, it was all over the passenger seat. One your guys must've dropped it in there!"
"No sir," he shook his head. "My boys wouldn't do that. You have no proof that you didn't just spill that now."
"Proof? You want proof! Here's your proof!" I hurled the cup at the attendant's booth, causing it to explode and rain coffee all over the window.
At that moment, I knew I had gone too far. I must've looked like a raving lunatic, so I decided to try to make it funny. In a moment of ultimate cheese, I pointed to the crumpled Tim Horton's cup and roared "Roll up THAT rim!"
After more ranting, one of the attendants offered me some paper towel and a plastic bag to cover the seat. Still fuming, I got in the car and went off to pick up my folks. Very wisely, my passengers talked me out of returning to the scene of the crime to get a refund (where I probably would've been the recipient of the wrong end of a few fists).
Somewhere in the middle of all of that, Evil Gab called me to find out what was keeping me. He would hear me ranting and raving, but didn't have a clear idea of what was happening when I hung up. My friends were relieved to see me in one piece when I turned up finally, but I was still too fuming to notice.
At some level, I believe that the world is out to get me, to walk all over me. So when I'm the victim of an injustice, I explode in righteous indignation. This can be a good or bad thing, but one of these days it's gonna be the reason behind a black eye, missing teeth, and good rattling to my brainpan.
So now you're all caught up on my Saturday night adventure. And the coffee came out fine in the end, except the car still smells like Tim Horton's capuccino.
Four hours later, I headed back to the lot to get the car. To my annoyance, I found two of the attendants leaning on the car having a conversation. I decided to let this slide, but I was annoyed. I unlocked the front door and when I got in, I saw it.
An old coffee cup (half-empty) that had been sitting in the deep coffee cup holder was now lying on its side in the passenger seat, cold coffee spilled all over it.
I jumped out of the car and started swearing like a sailor, outraged. "You @#$@! I paid $15 for this?!?! What the @#@#$@#!?!?"
The attendants came over, asking what was wrong. When I tried to tell them that I found coffee on my passenger seat, they tried to tell me that I must've done it. "What?!? Why would I have done this? When I left, this seat was dry!"
"Sir... Explain to me what happened," said one of the attendants.
By this time, I had the coffee cup in my hand and it still had a bit of coffee in it. "This cup was in my cup holder when I left you the car. When I came to get my car, it was all over the passenger seat. One your guys must've dropped it in there!"
"No sir," he shook his head. "My boys wouldn't do that. You have no proof that you didn't just spill that now."
"Proof? You want proof! Here's your proof!" I hurled the cup at the attendant's booth, causing it to explode and rain coffee all over the window.
At that moment, I knew I had gone too far. I must've looked like a raving lunatic, so I decided to try to make it funny. In a moment of ultimate cheese, I pointed to the crumpled Tim Horton's cup and roared "Roll up THAT rim!"
After more ranting, one of the attendants offered me some paper towel and a plastic bag to cover the seat. Still fuming, I got in the car and went off to pick up my folks. Very wisely, my passengers talked me out of returning to the scene of the crime to get a refund (where I probably would've been the recipient of the wrong end of a few fists).
Somewhere in the middle of all of that, Evil Gab called me to find out what was keeping me. He would hear me ranting and raving, but didn't have a clear idea of what was happening when I hung up. My friends were relieved to see me in one piece when I turned up finally, but I was still too fuming to notice.
At some level, I believe that the world is out to get me, to walk all over me. So when I'm the victim of an injustice, I explode in righteous indignation. This can be a good or bad thing, but one of these days it's gonna be the reason behind a black eye, missing teeth, and good rattling to my brainpan.
So now you're all caught up on my Saturday night adventure. And the coffee came out fine in the end, except the car still smells like Tim Horton's capuccino.
